Authors: Kimberley Reeves
His first thought was that her hand wounds had opened up when she fell, but when he turned Abby over, there was a thin line of blood trailing from her forehead down the side of her face. Jack lifted her in his arms and carried her across the room, gently placing her on the bed before rushing off to get a damp cloth to wash the blood away. He needed to see how serious it was before doing anything else. As he dabbed lightly on her temple and leaned forward to inspect the damage, Abby’s eyelids fluttered open.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, “it looks like you took a bit of a nose dive.” He eyed the cut, but it didn’t look serious.
She smiled weakly, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. “It’s all part of the act, you know.”
“I’m sorry, Abby,” he said earnestly. “If I hadn’t let my ego override my brain, I would have realized the sores on your hands were proof enough that you were telling the truth about needing my help. How do you feel, honey? Can I get you anything?”
“Water…”
“You got it. I’ll be right back so don’t go anywhere,” he said, only half teasing.
Abby attempted a smile, but it was thin to say the least. He hurried to the kitchen for a glass, filled it with ice water and hastened back to the bedroom. Working one arm under her shoulders, he helped her sit up. Riddled with guilt at the pained grimace on her face, Jack held the glass to her lips and let her drink greedily for a few seconds.
“Easy, sweetheart; take little sips or you’ll end up choking.”
She did as he asked, studying his face over the rim of the glass. Jack watched her eyes skim over his beard and pause at his mouth, a soft blush creeping up her neck and into her pale cheeks. Slowly, her eyes lifted to his, and this time there was no mistaking the unspoken invitation. He pulled the cup away and set it on the nightstand. Instead of relinquishing his hold on her, Jack leaned closer, prolonging his own agony for a few breathless moments while he contemplated his sanity.
“Now who’s doing the teasing?” Abby asked.
“I…” Jack shook his head. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
Abby smiled. “I’m sure of it.”
Jack lowered his head and pressed a light kiss to her lips. He meant for it to stop there, he really did; just one small kiss to satisfy his burning curiosity. But when her lips parted and her tongue tangoed with his in a deliciously provocative dance, Jack senses were too immersed in a sea of sensuality to even think of ending it. He wanted more…
needed
more, and he took it; deepening the kiss and exulting in the soft, purring moan that caught in her throat. Lost in the taste of her mouth and the burgeoning desire to make love to her, Jack pulled Abby closer, forgetting the recent abuse her poor body had taken until her muffled cry alerted him to the pain he was causing.
“God, I’m sorry, Abby,” he said, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. He lowered her back onto the pillow and sat on the edge of the bed. “You must think I’m the biggest letch in the state for taking advantage of you when you’re weak as a kitten.”
“If you can forget what an idiot I was to get myself in this condition, I’ll forget what a letch you are for taking advantage of it.”
Jack grinned. “It’s a deal. Now, what can I do to make you more comfortable?”
“I’m starving, Jack. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and it’s giving me the worst headache.”
“What would you like?
“Something light, please. Crackers maybe.”
“Let me prop you up first.”
This time, Jack was careful to keep his hormones in check as he held her against his chest and repositioned the pillows against the headboard. Abby let her head rest on his shoulder and for the moment he was content to remain as they were.
“You smell nice, Jack,” she said softly, “like soap and the woods and the first summer rain all rolled up in one heavenly scent.”
He chuckled and eased her back against the pillows. “Now I
know
you’re a writer. Let me guess, romance?”
“Romance/suspense, but my editor says I need to plug the holes in my plot so I can get my sales up. That’s why I came here.”
“Damn editors,” Jack grumbled, remembering the lecture he’d received earlier from his own editor. “I’ll go round up those crackers and be right back.”
“I’ll just wait here,” Abby quipped.
Since Jack had personally stocked the cupboards, he didn’t have any trouble locating the box of crackers. He tore the package open and put a handful on a plate, berating himself for the thoughts that were running rampant inside his head.
“You’re crazy, Jack Burton. Don’t do it. Do not get involved with her; she’ll destroy your peace, your orderly life.”
He thought of Abby’s lips and the sexy, throaty moan that had nearly driven him insane when he’d kissed her. Who was he kidding? If Abby Travis presented those sweet lips of hers again, he was going to take them and anything else she offered. Heaving a deep sigh, Jack returned to the bedroom.
“Open,” Jack commanded, holding a cracker to her mouth. She managed to down six crackers before refusing to eat any more. “No wonder you’re so thin,” he chided, “you don’t eat enough to sustain a bird.”
“I’m just so sleepy,” she yawned. “I’ll eat an enormous breakfast if you just tuck me in and let me sleep.”
“Point me to your pajama drawer.”
“Top drawer, black t-shirt,” she yawned again.
Jack carried the t-shirt back to the bed and was once again assaulted with a healthy dose of guilt when he noted how fragile she looked. As he reached out to wipe away a speck of cracker that had settled on her lip, he noticed there were faint red marks around her mouth.
“Did this happen when you fell?” He traced the lines of the rash.
“It’s from your beard,” Abby said, attempting to stifle another yawn.
Jack frowned. “My beard did that? Your skin must be very sensitive.”
She gave him a blissful smile. “You were kissing me pretty hard, Jack. But it was nice. I liked it.”
He liked it too, and fully intended to kiss Abby again once she was on the mend. For now, he had to be content with taking care of her. “Okay, sleepyhead, I need to get you into this t-shirt before you nod off on me.”
Jack feigned an air of indifference as he unzipped her jeans and gently tugged them over her slender hips. Her long legs were just as shapely as he’d imagined, but it was the barely there lace panties that had him breathing erratically. Turning his attention elsewhere didn’t help, especially when it involved removing more items of clothing. Jack couldn’t think of anything more torturous than playing the role of nurse as he helped her lift one arm and then the other and pulled her top off. But that was before he caught sight of the black bra; it was every bit as lacey and revealing as the matching panties. Clenching his jaws to prevent a grunt of pure agony from escaping, Jack lifted her into a sitting position and reached behind her to unsnap the bra.
"Jack,” she whispered against his cheek, “stay with me tonight.”
His hands froze.
Was she serious?
Get a grip, Jack. She’s teasing you, getting even for the shoddy way you treated her earlier.
“Jack? Did…did you hear what I said?”
“I heard,” he replied evenly.
Somehow he managed to unhook her bra, despite the decided tremor in his hands. He heard Abby draw in a ragged breath as he slid the straps off her shoulders. His entire body hardened when she moved her arms and let the bra shimmy over her breasts, leaving them fully exposed. Jack made a blind grab for the t-shirt and hastily pulled it over her head, silently cursing the one shred of decency he was clinging to that prevented him from lowering his head and tasting the pebbled tips of each beautiful breast. Even with the shirt in place he could see them straining against the fabric and had to fight the urge to yank the t-shirt off again.
“I want to be with you, Jack.” Abby spoke softly, but it didn’t hide the slight tremor in her voice. “Don’t ask me to explain it because I can’t. All I know is that I don’t want you to go.”
Holy mother of God, the wretched woman wasn’t making this any easier!
Jack curled his fingers into a ball, his determination to behave honorably faltering when she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Desire simmered in the depths of her eyes, fueling a fire that was already dangerously close to incinerating him. Common sense told him to offer an excuse and get the hell out of there before Abby coaxed his heart into following the same vulnerable path of temptation his libido was taking. Common sense, however, seemed to have taken a leave of absence because nothing on earth could compel him to leave her for the emptiness of his cabin.
“I’m sorry,” Abby apologized, obviously taking his hesitation as a sign he was searching for a way to let her down easy. “I shouldn’t have asked and put you in such an awkward position,”
How could any woman look sexy as sin and yet so utterly sweet and defenseless at the same time?
“You didn’t say anything I wasn’t already thinking,” he confessed.
Abby’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Does that mean you’ll stay?”
She was so incredibly beautiful, the ardent
yes
reverberating inside head couldn’t seem to find its way to his throat. With a silent nod, Jack gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
***
Abby woke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside her window and the embarrassing realization that she had read Jack Burton all wrong. After tucking her beneath the covers, he’d kicked his shoes off and stretched out next to her, but remained fully clothed on top of the comforter. He’d inched his arm under her shoulders, and Abby had been all too happy to curl up on her side and nestle her head against his chest. The thick comforter provided a barricade between their bodies; even so, his warmth seeped into her skin within seconds. She waited for him to touch her, longing for the intimacy his eyes had promised earlier, but it never happened.
Never in her life had Abby so brazenly invited a man into her bed. And yet she’d allowed Jack to undress her, had welcomed his kiss and made it abundantly clear that she was more than willing to make love with him. But what Jack had offered her last night was the comfort of his strong arms and nothing more. He didn’t want her; a fact that settled like cinder blocks in the pit of her stomach. She’d made such a fool of herself. The proof of that was evident when she opened her eyes and discovered he’d left her bed once she had fallen asleep.
Foregoing a shower because of the bandages on her hands, Abby shuffled to the bathroom to relieve herself. Her movements were stiff and painful. The same muscles that had burned like red hot coals the night before were eager to remind her that the healing process had only just begun. It felt as if she’d been used for a punching bag, which made getting dressed a slow and laborious chore, although Jack had been considerate enough to lay out her clothes for her. At least she wouldn’t have to face him this morning, Abby thought as she brushed out her hair. As for the tattered remains of her pride - there was little consolation in the firm belief that Jack would avoid her like the plague after the way she had thrown herself at him.
After groaning her way through a few stretches in the futile hope of loosening up her muscles, Abby’s grumbling stomach directed her toward the kitchen. Halfway down the hall, she stopped abruptly when the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air to greet her.
So much for avoiding the humiliation of seeing Jack so soon after his subtle rejection.
Squaring her shoulders, she fixed a friendly smile on her face and casually strolled into the kitchen.
“Great timing,” Jack said, reaching across the stove to turn the burners down. “I hope you like omelets. I’m afraid my culinary talents are pretty limited.”
“That’s very nice of you, Jack, but I’m much better this morning so you really don’t have to babysit me.”
To prove she wasn’t dependent on him for anything, Abby meandered over to the counter as if every muscle in her body wasn’t stiff as a board. There was an empty cup next to the coffee pot, which she assumed he’d gotten for her since there was a second cup to the right of the stove. She eyed the coffee pot, mentally preparing herself for the discomfort of picking it up even with the bandages protecting her hand. Reluctantly, Abby reached out and slowly curled her fingers around the hard plastic handle.
“That’s going to hurt like hell,” he cautioned.
Even if he hadn’t spoken, she would have known Jack was standing right behind her by the way her body instinctively reacted to him. There was no explanation for the things he did to her, but the chemistry was too potent to deny its existence regardless of her inability to rationalize it. Abby had no intention of subjecting herself to another rejection, which meant she had to find some way to contain her feelings. Easier said than done, especially with a heated blush scalding her cheeks and a heart that was trying to fight its way out of her chest.
Abby shrugged, attempting to make light of his warning. “You think I’m going to let a few little blisters get in the way of my morning coffee?”
“I wasn’t talking about the blisters. I’m talking about your grip being too weak to hold onto that pot, and the second degree burns you’ll acquire if you don’t jump out of the way before the glass shatters at your feet. Assuming, of course, that none of the coffee hits you on the way down.”